Dress to impress
by El loopy
Summary: Set post 6x4 'Flooded'. Buffy tries to go for a night out with Willow and Tara and after the fiasco at the bank she's decided that her dress needs to be demon-fighting friendly. Oneshot. Buffy x Spike.


Dress to impress

Buffy examined herself in the mirror and decided that she was not displeased with the result. The midnight blue material felt silky under her palms as she smoothed out imaginary creases. It was nice of Willow and Tara to invite her to the party, even though she wasn't a student anymore. Truthfully the thought of the noise and the people made her stomach churn, but she was going to make an effort. If only to convince them she was okay.

"Not bad," she smiled wanly to herself, "for someone who was dead very recently."

"Buffy! You coming?" Willow's voice drifted up the stairs from the hall, and with one last cursory glance up and down Buffy left her room.

"Yeah," she replied, descending the stairs in her heels and taking in the gawking faces at the bottom. She froze halfway.

"What's up?"

Dawn's shocked face turned into an admiring beam.

"Wow Buffy!"

Giles blinked a few times before removing his glasses to clean them, something he always did when he was nervous. Her gaze went to Tara and Willow. Willow looked worried. Tara was the first of the two to recover, stammering slightly with that quick smile.

"Nothing's up. You look great. Right Willow?"

She nudged her girlfriend with an elbow and stared at her expectantly. Willow tried to smile but the concerned frown remained between her eyes.

"Erm…yeah…super."

"Seriously what is it?" Buffy cleared the last few stairs and stood in front of her friend. Willow looked conflicted for a moment.

"Its…just…erm…you…you haven't been much of a people person recently…and…well…that dress might get some attention." Willow pulled a face. "Attention you might not really want."

Buffy looked down at herself again.

"Is it the length?" The dress rested on her knees. She thought it looked okay.

Willow grimaced.

"More the…" she gestured at the slit up the leg and Buffy looked at it in surprise.

"That? That's for demon fighting purposes only." The memory of the bank flashed through her mind and she scowled. "Stupid skirt."

"And the…" Willow pointed to her front and back. The cut wasn't too low at her cleavage but at the back showed most of her skin. Buffy looked at them all again, her own face reflecting their concern.

"Do you think it's too much?"

"I think you look amazing," Dawn declared and kissed her sister on the cheek. "Have fun." She walked out. "C'mon Giles."

"Yes, yes, have fun," Giles repeated as he prepared to leave the room after Dawn.

"Giles?" she shot him an anxious look and after a moment's hesitation he gave her a reassuring smile.

"You look stunning," he murmured and left the room.

Buffy now turned to the two girls accompanying her to the party.

"Do I need to change?"

Tara shot Willow a look, which clearly communicated something, in that way close couples can, and Willow sighed with a small smile.

"No. You look great. Really. Let's just go…just if it gets too much…."

"I promise I won't kick anyone's heads in," Buffy smiled, but it was forced, as it usually was these days. "Let's go."

* * *

As it was, Willow need not have worried about the impact the dress would make. They parked the car a small distance away and walked the rest. As they got closer to the party Buffy felt her steps dragging. The house came into view with booming music and flashing lights, screams of laughter and crashes of voices.

"Buffy? Are you okay?"

She hadn't realised that she had stopped. She looked at her friends, burdened with her miserable not-quite-all-there presence and made a snap decision.

"I think you were right about the dress…and the attention…I'm not sure I'm ready for this."

"Well, let me drive you home to change," Willow volunteered, "and then we can try again."

Buffy shook her head and gave a grateful smile.

"Thank you, but I think I'll just walk." Willow started to protest but Buffy cut her off. "I should really be patrolling anyway. Don't worry I've got my trusty demon ass-kicking dress on." She pointed to the leg slit. "Go enjoy yourselves."

Willow and Tara gave each other that communicating look again and back to her.

"Well, if you're sure…"

"I'm sure," Buffy nodded with a fake smile plastered on. "Have a blast. Don't stay out too late," she wagged a finger at them playfully, enjoying the genuine smiles lightening their faces before they turned, and she watched them walk away. Once they were out of sight she released her breath, and the smile, in a relieved sigh.

"Thank god they've gone."

The voice made her jump and she spun to see Spike emerge from behind a tree.

"Spike!"

He was staring at her hard, a strange look on his face.

"What are you trying to do to me Slayer?"

The tone of his voice, quiet and breathless, sent a pleasant tingle up her spine.

"Do you like it?" she found herself asking and could have kicked herself. Her tone was almost coy. That wasn't going to help matters.

Spike dragged his eyes to meet hers as surprised by the question as her.

"You look bloody gorgeous."

She wished for that old feeling of revulsion to overcome her, but it hadn't made an appearance in a long time. Instead the quiet intensity and conviction in his voice, so genuine after her friend's reactions, made her smile without meaning too and he smiled in return.

"Hey, another on. I'm getting good at that." He glanced over her shoulder at the centre of noise. "You going to that?"

Buffy followed the direction of his gaze.

"I was thinking not."

"Not really your thing," he murmured understandingly, and she gave him a grateful look.

"Not these days."

"Fancy getting away from the noise?"

She nodded in relief and started to walk away. He stepped up alongside her. She felt the movement of his hand hover over her back, as though he would place it there, before he withdrew it. Her skin tingled in awareness where he'd almost touched her.

"Were _you_ going there?" she echoed his question, pointing back over her shoulder at the party and Spike shook his head.

"Not really my thing either. Last time I was at one of those I got thrown out a window."

Buffy frowned slightly at the memory.

"By the robot girlfriend," she added, and Spike's smile faded. "Now why would you go bringing her up?"

"I was hoping you wouldn't remember that part," he murmured with some embarrassment.

"I've forgiven you on the grounds that you saved Dawn," Buffy replied magnanimously and then she shrugged, "and Robo-Buffy did come in handy, what with defeating Glory and pretending to be me…"

"I hated that thing." The venom in his tone made her start and look sharply at him. Spike didn't meet her eyes. He stared down at the ground, watching his boots hit the earth, his jaw tense. "Every time I saw her she reminded me of everything you were, and she was not. She reminded me of what had been lost. She reminded me of my own stupidity in thinking you could ever have been replaced. She was my personal torment."

She had reached out a hand to touch his arm before she could even think about stopping it. Spike looked at it in surprise and lifted his eyes to hers, solemn and sharp.

"I never would have let them bring you back though."

Her smile in response was weak, pained.

"I know."

Somehow they seemed to have stopped, her hand still on his arm. It was like it made everything clearer and more present. She kept thinking how easy it would be to have no distance between them. How much more real it would be to feel his understanding, their connection, in his arms. She quickly withdrew her hand and the moment broke.

They started walking again.

"As much as I admire your outfit Love," Spike gestured, and she felt that self-aware tingle, "its not very practical is it?"

Buffy gasped in mock horror, "But it has a nifty demon ass-kicking thingy up the leg…see," she modelled it gracefully and saw the vampire swallow…hard. Her stomach lurched. She refused to think about why.

"Yes…" he seemed unsure how to continue but fortunately they were rudely interrupted.

"I like the whole 'bite me' vibe." A thick-necked vamp approached out of the darkness, flanked by two cronies. "Looks good enough to eat, don't she boys?"

Spike bristled, and Buffy sighed.

"I was hoping for a nice quiet evening." Spike raised an eyebrow at her and she rolled her eyes back. "Well _an_ evening. I was at least hoping not to get my dress dusty…"

"We were on our way to a party," the ring leader drawled like she hadn't spoken, "lots of delicious drunk students, but we'll make a detour for such a tasty appetiser."

The vampires stepped closer and Spike moved in front of them, squaring up to the ring leader.

"You heard the Lady. Don't want to get her outfit all messed up. My advice would be to walk away while you still got a chance…"

"Spike…" he glanced over his shoulder and she reached into her handbag for her stake. "They're heading towards the party." Where Willow and Tara were.

Spike tuned back to the lead vamp and pretended to sigh.

"Oh well. Bad luck fellas." He swung a punch which hit home and grabbing him by the shoulders propelled the vampire towards Buffy who staked him in one smooth motion. The two minions prepared to flee but in an instant Buffy had one and Spike the other. He held his struggling bloodsucker as he watched Buffy kick the other's ass before staking him, whereupon she tossed the stake to Spike and he killed the one he held. Panting a little he glanced over at her to see her frowning.

"What's up, Love?"

"Dusty," she scowled.

"It'll wash," Spike tossed her the stake back and she stashed it in her handbag. "You were right about the leg thing," he pointed, and she tossed her head.

"Like I said," she nodded, "practical."

"Still not sure I'd agree with that," he smiled at her and she felt warmer inside. Like he touched the ice. The panic at the feeling hit seconds later and must have shown on her face.

"Slayer, you all right?" he frowned in concern and took a step closer. She backed off with flight in her eyes, snapping at her heels, and he paused. "Where are you planning on running to?" he asked with an edge to his words.

She contemplated running all the way home, but it was a long distance and completely impractical in this outfit. Life smacked her with difficulty again and she deflated with a sigh, resignation in her voice as she asked, "You got your bike?" As he nodded she added, "Take me home Spike."

* * *

The whole way she kept her arms wrapped around him as her anchor. She pressed her forehead to the black leather and shut her eyes, blocking everything out but the wind and the roar of the bike and how holding onto him made her feel connected. She tried not to care what she was connected to…that was adding layers of complication she couldn't handle right now.

As he pulled up outside her house the moment popped like a bubble and she was left with a soapy feeling in her brain. She held onto him a second too long and then over compensated in her haste to get to the door.

He stood watching her in that way he had that made her feel both desirable and terrified.

"Call if you need me. You know I'm never far away."

"Yes, I know," she murmured and placed her palm on the handle of the door. The thought swept across her mind in a flurry, ' _That's why I wore this dress.'_ She slammed the handle down so fast she thought she'd broken it. Spike gave her a bemused look, but she ignored him, instead pushing the door open and stepping through.

"Night."

"Night," he echoed back but she had already shut it on his words.

Safe inside the house she pressed her hand to her forehead and squeezed her eyes shut.

"Did it go all right?"

She started at Giles' voice from the shadows and then relaxed.

"Yeah," she responded, false cheeriness in the tone once again. "Yeah, it was great."

Giles examined her a moment.

"Good. You should probably go to bed. You look tired."

"Sure," she replied sunnily, "That's the next thing I'm going to do."

As he smiled reassuringly and left she found her hand reaching for the door handle again and stilled it, knowing full well where she wanted to go. Where she was herself and it wasn't real. Where someone knew and understood.

"Dammit Spike," she breathed and forced herself away from the door and up the stairs, each step becoming more difficult to make. He made her insides do strange things, made her questions herself and her motives, made her panic, but he was her escape. She could breath clearly around him. She didn't have to pretend.

Buffy looked at herself in the mirror, her hair dishevelled, eyes haunted and the dress now dusty. She plucked at the fabric with her fingertips.

"Nothing here is real," she whispered and shut off the light, so she didn't have to see anymore.


End file.
